Not Here Anymore
by Eternal Grey
Summary: Axel has been searching for Roxas in the next life but he can't seem to find him. Life keeps moving and he keeps trying out new things while just waiting for his best friend to show up and ease the pain. AkuRoku AxelxRoxas Axel x Roxas RoxasxAxel


Memories are something that you hold close and treasure, especially when you get the chance to go back and relive your life and do everything you always meant to. It was precious, these memories I held dear. They were something to look forward to… a next life, with you.

You were mine, even when you always needing help finding your way in the dark, that blue ice cream always against your lips. Laughing constantly at the things I said while remaining by my side as long as fate and destiny could allow. You were my best friend and now… now I'm here again. I have a next life and now I'm here looking for you, waiting for you.

But it's been eight years… and I haven't found you anywhere.

But you have to be here, you have to be. Remember? Out of the two of us you are the one who is supposed to have come back, not me. So where the hell are you? What are you doing? Are you eating ice cream with someone else? Are you living your life with someone different than me? Is he the same? Is it a she?

I got a job at a café, living my life a bit I guess. Thinking of quitting and just working at a bar, coffee just isn't strong enough sometimes. The windows here are large and the blinds are always up unless the sun is too bright. There is a fireplace that is always lit, tempting me with its warm embrace. The music playlist here are rock songs from the nineties, just some niceartists like Nirvana, Weezer, and Nine Inch Nails. All their songs from that decade play constantly along with The Cure and Beastie boys. It's peaceful with students walking past to get to school each morning then walking back every night. But I don't want peaceful.

You must think I'm such an idiot for not believing that you're here sometimes. But I know you are, it's just that… sometimes I get confused and I think you might have left me somewhere in time. But you're here. Got it memorized? You are here. Just give me some time, I'll find you. I swear.

Fucking lost though; I swear I saw you at some point, but no. But brown hair or blond, what's the difference? There is something about the two colors though, or maybe in that one instant I finally acknowledged that I'm going insane so I chased after him. But it wasn't the one I'm looking for. Blond hair and blue eyes, not brown hair and blue eyes, similar but different… and that kills.

"Axel, table four needs you." Another waitress called making me get back into reality and look around. Oh yeah, I'm here still. Reality hasn't let go of me yet. Will it ever? Or does it have an invisible hold on me? I don't know.

Work is swift just as it should be. It gets me enough money to live in a rundown apartment with some idiotic student who has dreams he wants to carry out. For the most part he stays out of my way though which allows me to do as I please and continue to look for you. I wonder if you think about me. You must… right? It's the only thing that gets me through the day after all. Fuck this… it's so boring. All I ever do is serve coffee day in and day out. It's not strong enough for me. It's not exciting or fun or interesting. All I ever get is some girls confessing their love, some couples making out in the corner… and too much time to think of you.

But I'm going to do something with my life, or at least find somewhere more exciting. A bar would do, right? Nine years of searching and I think I deserve a drink… or five.

* * *

><p>It's been another year, but I'm doing just fine I guess. At least my life isn't as boring as before.<p>

The bar idea… is great. It really is. The idiots who come in get themselves shit faced and then you just say that the bill is just a tad bit bigger and WHAM, you get a great tip for being so brilliant as to trick some dumbasses into giving you money. It should be considered a sport, really. I bet some of our friends, don't have their names memorized, would have enjoyed this place and the easy lays.

I got used to the scene here, it's kind of hard not to. If someone hot looked particularly wasted then there would be three guys or girls trying to get into the idiot's pants. Sometimes it would be the same gender of the hot person. I never take advantage. Too busy looking for you every night, waiting for you to walk through those doors. Will you ever? Or is it already over, this thing we had in the last life?

Just as I started to clean off the grimy counters, I noticed someone walk in and my heart skipped a beat. It might have skipped more than just one. Blue eyes, just like the ones I had imagined stared right at me. You look happy. I smiled widely and was about to walk over when the lights shifted and I saw that it's not you. No, it could never be you. Brown hair, sticking out in random places and he smiles too easily. That's when I recognized him from before. Ah, the guy I had noticed last year at the café. The one that crushed me, well, looks like he's gone off and done it again. Fuck that.

He sat down and I gave him a couple beers per request. I could see some guys and girls checking this small thing out. He's nothing much. Looks like an uke and someone just asking to be raped, then again the only ones who come here are the rapists and idiots. It's a great combination if you think about it. Set fire to the bar at any time with everyone locked inside and you would have helped out the town and deserve a medal of honor. I wouldn't be the one to do it though. More likely, I'd be sitting in the back, watching the flames with wide happy eyes, waiting to die by the one I love most, after you of course.

But this would be a shitty place to die at. Half the time there's the stench of sex in the bathroom stalls and sometimes a person is considerate enough to leave some of their cream for anyone to slip on. The counters are constantly being barfed on and glasses are broken on a regular basis. It's like no one understands what being fucking considerate means! I almost miss the cafe. But even so... it's always nice to watch a good show every once in a while here.

It didn't take long for the look-alike to get smashed. He was a bit too bubbly and talking to everyone in sight. A guy who comes here about once a week stood up before anyone got the chance and slid into the open seat next to the dumbass. The regular has grey hair that goes a bit past his shoulder, he's always brooding over a beer and staring out into the night, a real depressing piece of shit if you ask me. Well, he said a few words to the shit faced patron and then hauled him outside.

I take back my statement about the bar being full of just idiots and rapists. There are some heroes too. Just some caring bastards who want to help out when they can and just stick to the sidelines when they can't. This guy must be one of them. I know you would want me to be one too, but sorry. Not really the hero type. Never have been, never will be. The only one I was ever a hero for happened to be you.

There was a commotion in the back, involving two guys and a girl with a nice rack. Not hard to figure out what the fuck is going on. This place has been pretty boring anyway. I need a new scene, someplace to set a fire under its ass and have a good ole time looking for you.

The two guys began fighting, making me hop over the counter and stop them. Ten second later, with my adrenaline still pumping, I had a shot and then another one… before deciding I'm going to do something more fun.

Listening to the lame music I thought of something… not becoming a dj because that would just be boring, but becoming a dancer could be fun. And a distraction.

I'm sorry but I need a distraction from you. I just miss you too much.

But I could have fun showing off. Maybe letting people get a nice little peak of my body whenever I want to put myself on display to be appreciated. Since hitting the bar everyone thinks that I'm too much of a hardass to get, too much work. Maybe becoming a stripper will be good enough. I can have fun and not think of you as much.

Yeah I know, fuck you too.

* * *

><p>The stripping business is fun; it's a hell of a lot of fun. Fans scream out and beg for more, people stay after to dance with me and the world is great. Maybe, I can be great too. I'm not saying that I'm going to be a fucking bigshot for dancing and tossing off my clothes, no… although it could be fun. What's next? Being a porn star? I'm kidding…But the Organization kept us together and made us real, now I'm here all alone almost wishing I could kill some heartless or something. It's just so boring without my best friend.<p>

Stripping is a ritual. It makes me think of the Indians and shit with music pounding through me and the moves just coming, I don't even have to rehearse, my body knows exactly what to do. So I dance, and throw off my clothes while enjoying the happy faces of the people who can't get laid and the bastards who have nothing going for them so they come here. I love it. You would probably be pissed wouldn't you?

But you don't deserve it. It's been eleven years since I started looking and I still haven't found your sorry ass. Do you even give a damn about me? Do you care? I've been looking for you. Time off meant go look for Roxas, breaks meant go look for Roxas, parties meant go look for Roxas… and now I'm tired of looking for fucking Roxas. I'm done. You were my best friend in the last life and I grew to love you, but in this fucking life you aren't here. So fuck it. I'm going to dance, strip, tease, and fuck the brains out of anyone unlucky enough to be near me.

The world is mine and you can't be a part of it. Not anymore. You ruined us now. It's all your fucking fault! And yet it might be mine too.

Sitting on the stage after the club closed for the day, I tried not to think too much about the flashing lights and pounding music. Sure it's better than that sappy crap the bar played but here it's just a bunch of remakes or techno crap. It's a place for dancing and having a good time, not listening to an amazing song or finding an easy lay. Although you can do that if you play your cards right. Not that I'd want you too. But you see, clubs are a whole new ball park and I'm just beginning to have my fill.

"You look sexy like always." A voice said making me glance over. The boss has been trying to get in my pants for a while now but it hasn't worked out. I like my gig and this club is pretty decent. I'm not going to fuck myself over by getting it on with the boss and then getting fired one night for sexual harrassment. Yeah, I know that game and I fucking hate it.

"You think so?" I grinned with mock bashfulness. He just laughed in response before running a hand through his hair. Glancing off to the side he seemed to be working up his courage, letting me know it's going to be another one of those awkward moments where he tries to get in my pants. He's not an ugly guy, but looks don't really mean much in this. I would love to be fucking you. And even if you want to be top that's fine... as long as you're here. Right here, right now. But you aren't. Fuck you, Roxas. Fuck you.

"I'll give you a hundred bucks every time you fuck me." It was abrupt and a bit slimey sounding but I grinned. Cash is cash and these five dollar tips don't help pay the bills or for food.

All it takes is once.

* * *

><p>It's a lot to handle. A fucking lot. What am I doing?<p>

Standing in front of a little girl from Beverly, I stripped off her dress nice and easy and tried to ignore the warts on her face and the way her pimples went down onto her chest as well. She has a nice stash of heroine though which I injected into me swiftly enough, a nice long bit that sent my vision reeling towards the depths of heaven and hell. No longer allowing me to think or even feel anything other than the euphoria it brings.

An orgasm in the gut and then I was ontop and working hard to make her happy while she made these soft little moaning noises while trying to keep quiet so her daddy in the next room won't hear. Another year has gone by and I'm a prostitute. How fun is this shit? I get paid two hundred bucks an hour. Cheaper than most in this town but still a damn good fuck according to the rumors. I never do it without some opium or heroine. Either way I'm fucking high to the sky right about now. Gotta love it, especially the match when you light it and see the technicolor lights reflecting off and around it. Everything is different, more vivid, and fucking exciting.

Seriously, Rox. You should try it. Sure, it's a bit of a bitch being thirsty all the time but going off and showing your customer just what you're made of makes it worth it. She likes me! She really likes me! Fuck that bitch, it'll be fine. A burn here and a burn there! Wham! I'm out of here!

You have to love the kids who have never fucked before or haven't done it enough. They're so cute as they walk up to you and hand you some cash before asking 'where to?' The little puppies are easy to pleasure and then you're back on that corner in less than half an hour. Poor little bitches have no idea.

But they're fun, man. Very fun. Got it memorized?

But you can't do this. No, you're too bright and funny looking and all that shit. Don't do this. Please don't fucking do this. Live your life like a good little boy and do your best to keep going. Just keep going.

You've kept me alive all this time.

* * *

><p>Thirteen years have gone by. Haven't even caught a glimpse of you. Did you make it into the next life or did were you cheated out of it? You know, I would have saved you if I knew you needed it. This world is lonely and so messed up without you in it.<p>

I tried to make it you know? But this place is boring. There isn't anything... I don't remember anything anymore. There were black things and black coats and things. A girl with blond hair and your own which is brighter, much brighter. You aren't here anymore. Did you leave me all alone? Did I mean nothing to you?

I don't care anymore.

The world means nothing to me without you and my memories are fading. I don't even remember your fucking name.

It was the drugs. Probably. I've been off them for a month now since I've forgotten your name. How did you do this? How did you live without the memory of me? Oh... well isn't it obvious? You're stronger. You don't need me as much as I need you.

This alley is getting lighter with the falling sun, soon the homeless bums, scum of the city, will be by trying to take over this little corner I'm holed up in. Lost weight, hungry, and dying without you. Well... I guess I know what I need to do.

Standing up slowly I looked out at the twilight and found myself smirking. Every prostitute, homeless man, con, and pimp have a weapon on them at all times incase things get bad. Well... I'm going to use my .42 to put a nice little hole in my head. Might as well, it doesn't look like you're here. You aren't here are you?

Placing the gun against my temple I smiled at the twilight. "I loved you."

* * *

><p>An hour later, Roxas walked past the corner and looked at Axel's dead form.<p>

May the dead cry, but may the living fuck harder.


End file.
